


Rivalry

by bluelouis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M, Rival Sex, Rivalry, Rivals to Lovers, Smut, fictional soccer, larry stylinson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 18:24:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3619782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluelouis/pseuds/bluelouis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Smut] Team rivals, Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson take their mutual hatred for each other too far off the field. What happens when their passion for the game turns into an underlining passion for each other?</p>
<p>“Leave it on the field, boys.” That’s the thing, we could never do just that. Anger, hate, desire, and hunger to be the dominant one always followed us right off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rivalry

My teeth sunk into my lip, my knee bouncing up and down on the ground as I sat on the old wooden bench in the locker room. I could taste the harsh copper of my blood as my tongue ran along my busted lip. The heavy pants of my breathing were the only thing that could be heard in the empty space. My heart was pounding right along with it as fought it’s best to elevate enough to keep up with the rest of my heightened physical responses. I swallowed the lump in my throat, dry from the lack of water. 

 

Picking up the grass-stained bottom of my jersey, I brought it up to wipe the mud and sweat from my forehead. The white mesh material was able to smudge off the dirt some. Annoyed, I decided to lift the jersey over my head and take it completely off. In frustration with myself, I balled it up and threw it violently against the lockers, an echoing sound of defeat rattling throughout the entire room. 

 

I looked down at my muddy cleats; clumps of dirt and grass from the field were stuck in their rigid soles. I sucked air in through my nose sharply as I skimmed them along the concrete floor, knocking off what I could.

 

“Fuck,” I groaned out the curse as I rested my elbows on my knees, my hands running and gripping hard through my wet sweaty hair, making it stick up in all random directions.  I couldn’t believe how I could let myself crack under the pressure. That wasn’t the player that I was. Every mistake that I have ever made feels like I am drowning and my frustration level is holding me down into the water. 

 

I hate failure. I hate failure even more when it’s during a big game. Everyone from our town is there to watch and cheer us on. They put all their faith in us to win. It’s like having a million eyes all drawn onto you every second and for every little move that you make. It’s a pressure that drives me to do my absolute best. I don’t remember the last time that I played the game to for myself or just to get lost in it and have fun. No, I was playing for them. I was playing for <i>him</i> , even though he’s my opponent, the one that I have to take down. 

 

I have to prove it to him that I’m better than he is. He’s not allowed to see that I’m weak because then he can easily strike in with his power and control that he has over me. Tonight was just one of those nights that something about him got to me and I choked up. Almost two entire towns of people watched me buckle down and lose my focus because of him.

 

My body stiffened suddenly when I heard the creaking sound of the large metal door of the locker room open. I fought back the natural response to crane my neck to see who it was. I knew who it was. I looked up at the small clock in the corner, right above my coach’s office. He was right on time.

 

My eyes stayed down to the floor, glancing when I caught a glance of movement. His matching dirty cleats stopped a few inches away from me.

 

“Don’t take it so bad, Louis.” His voice was dark and thick like it always was. Now, it had a hint of huskiness to it.

 

I shrugged him off when he placed his hand on my shoulder. His grasp was firm, his fingertips digging into my shoulder muscles on my shoulder blades. My jaw clenched tighter to the point where I was already feeling the soreness.

 

He chuckled, pointing over to where my jersey was strewn across the floor. “Starting without me?”

 

“I’m in no mood for this right now.” I gritted out. 

 

“You know you don’t have to look into my eyes.” He ran his fingers along the nape of my neck. “So, will it be the shower this time or up against a locker?” His burning touch ran up my jawline, smoothing over to teasingly calm me down. 

 

I shook my head, pushing his arm away from me and standing up. One of my hands balled up into a first as my other harshly pushed his chest. “I told you I don’t want to.”

 

“Temper, temper, babe. Where was the spitfire out on the field tonight?” He smirked at me, his teeth slightly showing. 

 

“Cut it out!” I finally lost it and shouted at him, both of my hands found themselves pinning him against the lockers, grabbing his jersey by his broad shoulders. My breathing quickly picked up again as I glared at him angrily. His face gleaming with his smirk that I could never stand, the one that let me know that he was still winning. 

 

“Against the lockers it is then.” He mumbled before gripping my locked wrists, his hands clasping me so strongly that my hands lost their hold on his shoulders, giving him the opportunity to switch places with me.

 

I winced as my bare back collided with the metal of the locker, my eyes squeezing shut so I didn’t have to look at his face. My nerves stung as the pain shot through me. I felt his warm hands grabbed both sides of my face as his hot wet lips crashed onto mine, already moving frantically over mine as he leaned his body weight against me to keep me trapped between him and the locker. 

 

I couldn’t help but kiss him back with just as much force, moaning deeply. When my mouth opened to get the sound out, his tongue pushed through my teeth to run along mine. The taste of his saliva mixed with mine as my tongue wrestled to be dominant over his. His fight was so forceful against mine that I just couldn’t let myself get tangled with him. 

 

His hands moved from holding my face. One went to rest in my neck and the other gripped my hip as his began to grind against me, rolling in a fast pace. I knew from past times that his next move was going to be detaching his lips from mine and going for the pulse point on my neck. I had to be quick if I wanted the upper hand again. 

 

As he began tugging at my bottom lip with his teeth my own clashed against his. My upper lip tried to take his between my lips, sucking on it lightly. My hands went to his sides, running up them, bunching up his jersey that smelled of his sweat. Already, I was letting him have all the dominance as my mind just wanted to caress every inch of his body. This wasn’t what it was about. 

 

I was able to breathe again when his lips left mine completely to trail hot open-mouthed kisses along my chin, jawline, and then to my neck, where he buried his face. His dark curls brushed against my cheek and I turned my head away from them, giving him more access to my neck. His lips were practically latched to my skin like a leech, sucking, pulling my skin from me and into his tight mouth. His teeth were able to pick up a little pinch of my skin. His lips always felt so good on me and a low pleasured groan rumbled from my throat like thunder. I could feel him smirking against my neck. 

 

The hand that was on my hip skimmed over my pelvis, his thumb sinking into the waistband of my shorts and snapping them back against my skin. At that moment, I knew that I was at failure again. It was too late for me to try and be dominant one. In a short time he was going to have me whimpering his name and begging him for release. 

 

He pulled away from my neck and looked directly at my face, his free hand mockingly stroking my cheek as he places his hand over my erection, holding it in the palm of his hand. His thumb slowly strokes over it. He leans his body forward more as his hand pushes against me again, causing me to let out another light groan.

 

I freeze a bit under his controlling hand, letting my back arch slightly off the locker. My hips come up, purposefully grinding my erection into his hand, letting him know how eager and ready I was for him.

 

I knew he wasn’t going to give into my demands completely. He slipped his other hand down, running it down the full length of my torso to pull my shorts  down. I already removed my cup prior to his arrival. My bulge is now visible entirely. His darkened eyes trace around my erection before his fingers run along the thin cotton of my underwear, feeling my dampness as he nears my covered tip. His hand goes back to massaging my hard member, working his hand harder, squeezing and rubbing down on me. He feels my pre-cum seep through onto his hand, letting him know how aroused I was by his actions. 

 

He licked his lips as he watched and felt how I reacted to him. Both of his hands now move to my hips, just above my waistband of my underwear. He hooked the fingertips of his thumbs under the tight elastic and let his fingers teasingly tap against my pelvis, pretending to rethink what he wanted to do. 

 

“Shit,” I growl in frustration, bucking my hips against his, wanting to feel his arousal against mine. "If you don't do this soon, I have no problem with forcing you." My voice grew strained and sterner with each word. 

 

“I’ll take care of you in due time. Let me play around for a bit, just like I played you in the game tonight.” He told me, keeping his dominant composure over the situation, his fingers snapping at the elastic as he slowly slid his thumbs further down. 

 

“At the rate you’re going, I plan to.” I growl again while cursing and looking straight at him. I raised my hands and trailed them down his arms before holding his wrists firmly, making him pull my underwear down to reveal and free my throbbing erection. Still holding onto his wrists, I lifted his hands and brought them toward my cock and rubbed my tip along the palm of his right hand, letting my pre-cum speckle onto his skin. 

 

His hands wrapped around my length, holding me strongly so I wasn’t the one who got to control his strokes. "If you don't let go of me, then I'm not going continue," he told me, giving me a look. I let out an annoyed sigh and released his wrists from my grip. 

 

His motions start off slow, letting his hands get used to the sensitivity of my rigid shaft. The pre-cum and sweat from his palms makes it easier for his hands to create a smooth friction along my base, pulling up on me with ease.

 

“Say my name,” he growled at me, clamping his hand around me with a sharp pull forward, bringing my ass and back off the locker. 

 

At this point my head was titled back and rolling back and forth across the lockers as his hands worked me. I was already so close to releasing into his hands that holding back was impossible. 

 

His name was toxic as I felt it wanting to flow right off my tongue. I didn’t want his name to be said in such an erotic and vulnerable way but he made me feel so hyped up that I wasn’t my right self. 

 

“H-Harry,” I said in a hushed tone as I felt my cock twitch in his hold, my hips buckling down as I began to ride against his hands. His devilish grin spreading across his face with victory. The same sheer look that he gave me right after he scored the final goal tonight. It was the look that I sometimes saw right before I closed my eyes to go to sleep. No matter what,  I couldn’t escape him and he wasn’t going to let me. 

 

 


End file.
